


Don't Get Too Close (It's Dark Inside)

by saintjoanofsnark



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Gen, Minor Kanan Jarrus/Hera Syndulla, more tags (probably) to be added later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-21 15:01:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13743420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saintjoanofsnark/pseuds/saintjoanofsnark
Summary: [Title taken from Imagine Dragons' "Demons". Disclaimer can be found on my profile. Updates sporadic. See each A/N for chapter warnings.]When the Ghost's crew receives an op with virtually no information to go on, Hera doesn't know what to expect. However, a Force sensitive teen certainly wasn't at the top of the list.





	1. The Weapon

**Author's Note:**

> Important Notes:
> 
> In this story, everyone is still their canon ages. The only reason Ezra is called a child is because a) he looks young and is small for his age, b) he acts child-like (for reasons that will be eventually be explained), and c) it's the Empire's way of demeaning him and thus controlling him. Also, the narration switches between calling Ezra "the child" and "the teen," to clear things up a bit. There will be NO Sabezra/Ezrabine in this story. There will be canon Kanera, like in the show, but it won't be the focus.

"You're sure about this information? I don't want my team walking into a trap."

"I'm sure, Captain."

"Alright, setting course now. Thank you, Fulcrum. I'll contact you when the mission is completed."

"Good luck, Spectre-2. Be careful."

"We will."

Hera watched the hooded figure of Fulcrum sputter off and sighed, rubbing her forehead wearily. She'd known this op was coming, but she'd hoped to have more information to go off when the time came. The margin of error was too large, there wasn't enough data, and Hera was afraid for her crew.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Kanan's quiet voice cut through Hera's thoughts and she forced herself to relax. She was worrying about nothing. They would be fine.

"Nothing, love," Hera responded, smiling tiredly at him as he sat down in the copilot seat next to her and handed her a cup of caf, which she accepted gratefully. "Fulcrum contacted me," she added, taking a sip and feeling the warm liquid heat her up to the tips of her lekku with satisfaction.

"About…?"

"The Weapon."

"Do we have more info?" Kanan asked, leaning forward in his seat eagerly. The Rebellion had caught wind of something big being passed around in high-security Imperial compounds about a year and a half ago, but no amount of digging, spying, or slicing had uncovered any vital information. If it wasn't for the (admittedly vague) travel records and the tight security around the facilities, whatever the Empire was guarding so carefully might as well not exist. Not even the criminal underground had much information, though not for lack of trying. The only break they had was the codename, Weapon, and even then it didn't tell much.

"Yes, we do. One of Fulcrum's informants got their hands on some leaked coordinates that are supposedly the Weapon's next destination." Hera sighed. "The problem is that these coordinates are the only thing Fulcrum's contact was able to uncover. We don't know how many troopers will be there, the terrain, anything. We'll be going into a highly-guarded Imperial compound to investigate a possible superweapon  _blind_."

"What other choice do we have?" Kanan said quietly. Hera shook her head and rubbed her temples. "Hera, if there's even a slight possibility that the Empire could use this Weapon to harm innocents than we have to stop them. This is our  _only chance_. It's a risk we have to be willing to take."

"I know. I just… I know." Hera absentmindedly took another drink of her rapidly cooling caf, her thoughts wandering as she stared out at the stars. Kanan sighed and Hera heard him shifting in his seat.

"I know you're worried about this," he said quietly. Hera glanced at him. "I understand. This op is a bit dangerous-"

"'A bit dangerous'?!" Hera repeated incredulously, facing Kanan fully. "Kanan, we're going into this op with practically- no,  _literally_  zero information, save for the coordinates! Fulcrum expects us to take care of some Weapon we know  _nothing_  about, in a compound we have  _no data on_ , guarded by Force knows how many troopers!" Hera stopped and took a deep breath, angrily blinking away the tears threatening to fall as her imagination ran wild with the thought of everything that could go wrong, and all the ways her crew could get caught. She took a shuddering breath and whispered, "This is a suicide mission, Kanan, and I don't want to lose you… any of you."

"You won't," a gruff voice cut through the deafening silence that followed Hera's speech, and the two spun in their seats to see Zeb, Sabine, and Chopper framed in the cockpit door.

"I didn't know you were awake," Hera said, her voice only wavering slightly as she hastily turned away, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. Chopper made a low crooning sound and bumped into her leg gently.

"I was painting," Sabine said quietly, sitting down in the chair directly behind Hera. "I heard shouting and wanted to make sure you were okay." Her eyes searched Hera's face, but Hera turned away.

"Doesn' matter," Zeb said dismissively, flopping down into the remaining seat. "Wha' matters is that you won' lose us, Hera. We're professionals." He grinned at her and Hera felt herself smiling back. "'Sides, I'm sure you or Kanan'll come up with some sorta brilliant plan, like you always do."

"Hey, what about me?" Sabine protested, putting on a pouting face and placing her hand on her chest dramatically. "You wound me, Zeb!" Zeb snorted and shoved her shoulder playfully.

Hera smiled. Zeb was right. They'd come up with a plan like they always did. Her crew, her family, would be just fine.

* * *

Cold… Dark…  _Scared_ … Where were they now? How…? It hurt.  _He_  hurt. The child let out a whimper and curled tighter into a ball, his arms wrapped around his body as if trying to hold himself together. He was Moving again. He didn't know where. Or why. He couldn't remember time, hadn't even bothered to keep track after… what was it, again? Days, weeks, months,  _years_? He didn't know. What happened? He couldn't really remember, even on good days. The child could barely recall his name, let alone that he was a 'he' at all. An 'it'. That's what they called him. That's what his Master called him.

Where was he?  _Who_ was he? He didn't know… he didn't care… should he?

He hurt.

 _It_  hurt.


	2. Planning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for physical abuse and emotional/mental manipulation as well as mentions of blood and (minor) character death/murder. You know, all those fun things.

Although Hera would have loved for her crew to have all the time in the universe to perfect their plan, they didn't. In reality, it was the opposite: data showed that the Weapon arrived in the Imperial compounds within a fortnight at the most from when the officials were notified and the appropriate resources gathered. The length of time the Weapon stayed at each location varied depending on the coordinates and the available security, but the times could change dramatically and for no obvious reason. This was just one more variable that had the potential to completely destroy the plan.

After much debate and many meetings over the span of three days, Fulcrum, Hera, and Kanan had come up with the best plan they could. To Hera's immense relief, Fulcrum had discovered that the Rebellion had some fairly recent information on the compound; in fact, it was on a planet that Hera's crew visited often. The compound was on an Outer Rim planet called Lothal and would not have the security available that a better-known, less backwater planet would. This fact, combined with the layout noted the Rebellion had painstakingly obtained, made for a less hazardous op than Hera had anticipated (and feared).

On the way to Lothal, Hera and Kanan began to fill in the rest of their crew.

"If our predictions are correct, which they should be, given previous data, we will have roughly three to six days to establish our covers. This means we need to work quickly but efficiently," Hera explained, meeting everyone's eyes.

"What's our cover?" Sabine asked, her gaze challenging. Hera sighed inwardly. In the three days since Fulcrum had first contacted them, Hera and Kanan had shared no information with the rest of the crew. Chopper hadn't really cared either way. Zeb had grumbled and groused for a bit but accepted it. Sabine, however… Sabine hadn't been pleased. Hera knew how much she hated being left out of the loop, but there wasn't much she could do. Fulcrum had requested that the information they shared in the meetings stay secret until the mission began. Most of the things they dealt with were on a need-to-know basis anyway, and Sabine needed to learn to trust in things that were bigger than herself.

"We'll be going as bounty hunters for hire," Kanan responded, snapping Hera out of her thoughts.

"We won' get access to th' whole compound, though," Zeb pointed out. Kanan grinned.

"Since when have we played by the rules?" he asked. A feral grin grew on Zeb's features. Hera smiled and shook her head with exasperated fondness.

"No sabotage until after we retrieve the Weapon," Hera said, her tone stern but the smile still on her face.

"That goes for you too, Sabine," Kanan added, looking pointedly at the girl in question with a raised brow and a serious expression that was ruined by his half-smile. Sabine fluttered her lashes innocently, gesturing to herself as if to say, Who, me? Zeb let out a snort of laughter and Kanan shook his head.

"All right, all right," Hera interrupted before her crew got too riled up and out of hand. "We're approaching Lothal now, so everyone needs to prepare." Her crew nodded and everyone split up to get ready for what was arguably their most dangerous mission yet. Hera took a deep breath and headed towards the cockpit where Chopper had been monitoring the controls. They had a lot of work ahead of them.

* * *

The door slid open and light burst into the tiny room. The teen curled up in the corner cracked open his eyes and peered towards the door. He could barely make out a stout, armored shadow before the person began to move towards him rapidly.

"Get up, you lazy child!" The harsh voice was followed by a swift kick to the child's ribs. He flinched and scrambled to his feet. "Did your Master say you could rest?" the man snapped. The child shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut and biting his lip. Although his instincts screamed at him to fight back, the child knew that it would only make the punishment worse. He wasn't quite sure what he had done to make his Master upset, but he knew he must have done wrong. Was what this man said true? Was his Master angry at him for drifting off? The child choked down a sob and instead clenched his fists tightly at his sides, his nails digging into his palms and drawing blood.

"Open your eyes, brat!" the man ordered. The child only squeezed his eyes tighter. Where was his Master? He protected him… he always protected him… only his Master was allowed to punish him. The child knew this. What was going on?

The hand came out of nowhere. An open palm struck the child's cheek with a resounding smack, the force of it sending the teen staggering backwards.

"Speak up!" the man barked. The child only bit his lip harder, drawing blood. He tensed, preparing for another blow, wondering what he'd done wrong, why his Master was so upset that he didn't even punish him in person, when-

"Enough." His Master's cold voice halted the man in his tracks. The teen did not open his eyes, but he relaxed as he heard his Master take a couple of steps towards the two. His Master was here. He was safe now.

"What do you think you're doing?" His Master asked, his voice so very, very quiet, like the voice he used when the teen did something Forbidden. It sent a shiver down the child's spine. "Open your eyes, Weapon."

At his Master's command, the child's eyes shot open at once and he took in the scene before him. His Master stood tall and imposing, framed in the open doorway, his hands clasped behind his back and his narrowed golden eyes trained on the man before him.

"Inquisitor," the man dipped his head respectfully and shifted nervously. The child could feel the fear rolling off of him in waves and allowed himself a small smile. "I… I apologize, I was only-"

"On whose orders were you acting?" The Inquisitor cut him off. The man straightened slightly and the child felt his fear give way to surprise and confusion.

"Whose orders? Sir, I don't understand. I'm acting on yo-"

A red blade plunged through the man's throat, cutting off his response and coming to rest in front of the teen's face. The man let out a wet gurgle and twitched once before he became still.

"I will find the fool who sought to influence you, child," the Inquisitor stated, deactivating his 'saber and letting the man's body fall to the floor with a low thud. "Whoever ordered you to be harmed when you had done no wrong will be punished severely."

"I'm sorry, Master," the child whispered, stepping over the corpse to kneel at his Master's feet. "I… fell asleep, Master. I am truly sorry. I accept any punishment you feel is right to give me."

The Inquisitor frowned down at the child quivering at his feet.

"It is of no importance," he said. When the child glanced up at him in surprise he smiled, baring pointed teeth. The teen hastily looked back down at the floor, shuddering slightly. "Come, Weapon. We will continue your training," his Master ordered, turning and stalking down the hall. The teen scrambled to his feet and trailed him obediently, making sure to keep at a respectful distance.

The Weapon allowed himself another rare smile. His Master was so good to him. It was more than he deserved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments, questions, reviews, and helpful criticism are highly appreciated.


	3. Arrival

Hera carefully brought the  _Ghost_  down to the Imperial docking bay, feeling the gentle bump that signaled a successful landing.

"Here we go," Hera muttered to herself, switching off the engine. "Chop, turn on the comm system," she added distractedly, powering down several systems that were no longer needed, running a diagnostics scan, and readying her ship for repairs and refueling. Chopper wheeled over to the comm and Hera heard the click of activation.

"Let's get this party started," Hera announced to her crew, running a critical eye over the reports and making a mental To Do list. She heard Zeb's distant whoop and grinned. "Get your gear and meet in the cargo bay," she instructed before switching off the comm and standing up. She stretched, her arms over her head, and let out a satisfied sigh when her back popped. As she made her way towards the cargo bay, Hera swiveled her neck, feeling the tense muscles loosen. Hera slid down the ladder and opened up the ramp just as Sabine appeared at the top of the ladder. Apparently deciding that the ladder was too boring, Sabine headed straight for the railing and, without missing a beat, vaulted over it to land in front of Hera, a huge grin plastered on her face.

"Reporting for action, sir!" she said, saluting in a very dramatic fashion. Hera shook her head with fond amusement as Sabine slipped her helmet on, the smile still evident.

"You've got everything you need?" Hera asked, making sure that her own blaster pistol was in its holster on her hip where she could reach it easily.

"Of course!" Sabine scoffed. "Dual blasters here and here," she gestured to her sides. "Back-up in my leg holster, back-up to the back-up in my waistband, vibroknives in my boots plus the two in my sleeves, belt full of miracles plus the pouch of ingredients for crafting in the field, and, most importantly, my spraypaints safe in their holsters." She patted the aforementioned spraypaints on her thighs proudly.

"Plannin' on takin' on the entire Empire by yourself, there, champ?" Zeb grunted as he entered the cargo bay, Chopper hot on his heels. Sabine playfully shoved him in response. "Where's Kanan?" Zeb asked, shoving the Mandalorian gently.

"Here," Kanan spoke up, seeming to materialize out of nowhere next to Hera.

"What took you so long, love?" Hera asked, peering at Kanan intently.

"I thought I felt… something. Never mind, it's probably nothing," Kanan said, looking (and sounding) like it was most assuredly  _not_  "nothing." Nevertheless, Hera let it go. If it was important, she knew her partner would let her know.

"We ready?" Hera asked briskly, distracting her crew from pursuing the subject any further. Kanan shot her a grateful look. Sabine nodded and Zeb patted his bo-rifle with a grin. "Keep an eye on the ship, Chop," Hera told her droid. He grumbled, unhappy about being left behind, but rolled back to the cockpit anyway.

Hera led the way off the ship and towards a group of Imperials waiting in front of her ship. Four troopers stood at attention behind a well-dressed man who looked over her crew with a sneer on his face. His eyes lingered on Zeb as a flash of anger crossed his face, but he was quick to mask it and turned back to Hera.

"I am Agent Kallus of the Imperial Security Bureau. Who are you and what is your business here?"

"My name is Tann," Hera responded, giving the cover name that had been decided on earlier. Her crew had painstakingly come up with new identities for this mission, complete with backgrounds and life stories. With some help from Fulcrum, Sabine had even set up some basic information on the HoloNet that would suffice as long as nobody dug too deeply. Each spectre had memorized their "new" lives; hopefully, the information would hold out for as long as the crew needed.

"She's our pilot," Kanan cut in smoothly. "My name's Marik. This is Iala," he gestured to Sabine, who crossed her arms and nodded stiffly. "And this is-"

"Bernharr," Zeb interrupted, glaring at the agent.

"A Lasat," the man said, his lip curling as he eyed Zeb with poorly disguised disgust. Zeb flattened his ears and bared his teeth.

"We're bounty hunters," Hera broke in quickly, stepping forward and "accidentally" treading on Zeb's toes.

"Bounty hunters?" the agent repeated, turning to Kanan as if Hera wasn't even there. She bristled, silently furious, her lekku twitching with barely restrained anger, but bit her lip and kept silent. "Well, the Empire occasionally has need for your services. Very well. You may stay in the Guest Wing. However, if you are found breaking any of the rules, which includes trespassing onto areas you are not permitted to enter, the punishment will be swift and harsh. A full list of the rules and regulations will be presented to you upon receiving your rooms."

Hera and her crew nodded before following the man. That rule certainly wasn't going to be followed, of course, but the problem would be not getting caught. Hera had full faith in her crew, though. She knew they were capable of pulling this off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments, questions, reviews, and helpful criticism are highly appreciated.


	4. Memories and a Name

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for physical, mental, and emotional abuse/manipulation, injury to a major character, and animal death. Reader discretion is advised.

The air sizzled as a flash of red cut towards the child. If it wasn't for his quick reflexes, he would've gotten another scar to add to his growing collection. As it was, the miss was such a close one that the child could feel the heat of the blade pass in front of his face and smelled the acrid scent of burning hair as he received yet another impromptu haircut.

"Foolish child!" his Master snarled. The teen whimpered and bowed his head, squeezing his eyes shut in shame. He wasn't sure what was wrong with him today, but his performance was not up to his Master's expectations.

The all-too-familiar grip of his Master's fingers circling his throat made the child gasp and his hands fly up to tug weakly at the hand cutting off his oxygen supply. The pressure grew as the child's feet left the ground and he wriggled slightly, gasping for air.

"I feed you and give you shelter," the Master said quietly, his eyes sparking with fury. "I saved you from your pathetic life on the streets, and this is how you repay me? You owe me your life, child! You are mine to perfect and to control, and to be rewarded or punished as I see fit."

"I-I'm sorry… Master…" the child managed to choke out, tears rolling down his cheeks. "P-Please…"

"You dare plead for mercy?" his Master whispered. The child tried to let out a cry as the pressure on his throat increased, but he couldn't draw a breath. He choked, trying to gasp and getting nothing. The child struggled harder, but his limbs were heavy and he was too weak and there was black gathering at the edges of his vision.

Just as the child was sure he would pass out, his Master suddenly released him. The teen fell to the floor in a heap, the impact forcing any remaining air out of his lungs. He lay there, gasping, choking, and trying not to cry as his Master stood over him and sneered in contempt.

"Get up, you sniveling, wretched thing!" he snapped. The child let out a weak sob as he tried to maneuver his arms underneath him, but they just couldn't support his weight and he fell back to the floor, hitting his cheek against the cold metal ground painfully. His Master growled angrily, grabbed his arm, and yanked him roughly to his feet. When he let go, the teen wobbled but somehow managed to stay upright.

"Now we will try something new," his Master said quietly. He strode over to the panel near the door and pressed a button. Almost instantly, a trooper entered, carrying a crate. The trooper placed the crate on the ground, saluted, and left, the door sliding shut behind him. The child watched as his Master strode over to the crate and kicked it. Whatever was inside let out an angry yowl and the crate shook. "Come, Weapon."

The teen instantly went to his Master's side, anxious to avoid the punishment for disobeying a direct order. He eyed the crate nervously; whatever was in it couldn't be very big, but it didn't sound friendly.

"Inside this carrier is a loth-cat," the Master said. The teen frowned; he recognized that name, although he wasn't sure from where, exactly. "Once I open it, your task will be to tame the creature. Once you achieve this, I will set a number of tasks for you to complete. Am I clear?"

"Yes, Master," the child responded; his voice was rough and hurt in his throat, but he dared not acknowledge it. His Master did not respond, as the teen had expected he wouldn't, and used the Force to unlock the crate. Almost instantly, a tan loth-cat with black stripes burst out, landing on the hard ground and baring its teeth in a snarl. It narrowed its eyes at the child and tensed, preparing to jump.

The teen stumbled back a step and glanced at his Master. He had never been asked to do this kind of training before and wasn't quite sure how to proceed. In the brief moment where he took his eyes off of the animal, it let out an angry yowl and leapt through the air, aiming for the child's face. The teen yelped in surprise and made a violent shoving movement; the Force was quick to respond, halting the loth-cat mid-air before sending it tumbling backwards.

A harsh wave of pain swept through the child's head and he collapsed to his knees, biting back a scream. It was gone in an instant, leaving the child breathless and trembling.

"Ignorant child!" The Master snapped, using the Force to once more wrench the child to his feet. "Are you so simple you cannot follow such straightforward commands?"

"I-I'm sorry," the child whimpered. His Master snorted.

"Again. This time, do as I bid you, or there will be a worse punishment." The Master said. The child nodded and turned back to the recovering loth-cat. Its brief flight through the air and subsequent crash into the far wall had not cowed it; quite the opposite, in fact. It regained its footing rather slowly, but once it was standing it faced the child again and screeched angrily. The loth-cat stalked towards the teen, its tail lashing, and it prepared to launch itself at the teen once more.

This time, however, the child was ready. He reached out with the Force and felt for the spark of life that belonged to the loth-cat. Once he found it, he carefully grabbed it to keep the loth-cat in one place. The child took a deep breath and sent out feelings of  _calm_  and  _safe_  and  _peace_  along with vague images of wide grassy plains under open skies. The child wasn't quite sure where these thoughts were coming from, but they seemed to be working, so he kept going.

He sent the warmth of the sun on an upturned face, the feel of a breeze tangling hair, and the sight of twin moons shining bright among thousands of stars. The child could feel the loth-cat relaxing and even heard it begin to purr, but something urged him to keep going, to dive further and deeper into what he now suspected were memories, so he did.

He squeezed his eyes shut tightly and slowly, ever so slowly, he began to remember.

He remembered his mother's warm smile, her rich laughter filling his home, the kisses she pressed to his forehead each night as she tucked him in; he remembered his father's deep voice, his soothing presence, his strong arms circling him as he hugged him good night.

He remembered joy, and laughter, and fun, and happiness.

He remembered pain, and darkness, and screaming, and  **fear**.

He remembered the night his parents were taken from him, the terror he had felt, the confusion as he was quickly helped into his parents' secret room beneath the floor, his mother's breath on his cheek as she kissed him goodbye, the shine of the tears in her eyes; he remembered his father's tense arms carrying him down, his warm hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently, reassuringly; he remembered them whispering, promising they'd be back, telling him they loved him. He remembered…

" _We love you so much, baby. Don't you worry. Everything will be okay."_

" _Just stay here, okay?"_

" _Be strong, Ezra."_

"… _Ezra…"_

The child wrenched his eyes open to see his Master's furious face inches from his own. He let out a gasp and tried to stumble backwards, only to trip over his own feet and fall hard. He sat there panting, staring at his Master without really seeing him, replaying the newly-found memories over and over and over again.

"Weapon!" his Master's snarl snapped him back to reality with a jolt and the child shot to his feet, his head bowed submissively. "What were you doing?"

"I-I was… um… I…" the child-  _no_ , he thought.  _Ezra. My name is Ezra._ \- stammered. He glanced up and saw his Master narrow his eyes in suspicion, but it only lasted a heartbeat before his Master shook his head and motioned for him to be silent.

"No matter. Now that you've tamed the loth-cat, I want you to make it roll over," the Master commanded. The child-  _Ezra_  gulped but nodded. He reached out and gently prodded the loth-cat's mind, urging it to roll over as his Master had commanded. The loth-cat did happily, purring and rubbing its shoulders against the ground.

"Good. Now, bring it over here," his Master said, a pleased smile stretching across his face. Ezra nodded. It was getting easier to think of himself as being Named, but it felt good and besides, maybe it would bring back more memories. His Master did not need to know.

The loth-cat came with hardly any prompting and wound around Ezra's legs, still purring loudly. Ezra smiled and carefully pet its head. The loth-cat seemed to enjoy that, as it rubbed its head against Ezra's hand and began to lick his fingers. Ezra laughed at the feeling of the rough tongue on his skin.

Ezra's Master instructed him to make the loth-cat do more tricks, and Ezra followed his Master's commands flawlessly. He was very happy; the loth-cat seemed to like him, and his Master seemed pleased, which was always a good thing for Ezra: a pleased Master meant less punishments.

"Very good, Weapon," Ezra's Master praised after he commanded the loth-cat to complete the latest (and most complicated) trick. "I have one final task for you before you will be permitted to return to your room." Ezra nodded eagerly. Maybe if he did as his Master asked, he would be allowed to keep the loth-cat!

"Whatever you want, Master," Ezra responded. His Master smiled, but it was one a predator would give just before pouncing on its prey, all sharp teeth and cold eyes, and Ezra felt his smile slip off his face.

"I want you to kill the loth-cat. Use the Force to crush its throat," his Master said. Ezra's blood ran cold.

"W-What?" he spluttered, turning his wide-eyed gaze from his Master to the purring loth-cat.  _Kill_  it? Why? He had spent the better part of two hours building a bond with it; how was he supposed to just…  _kill it_? "B-But… I…"

"Are you disobeying a direct order, Weapon?" his Master asked, his voice low and deadly. Ezra flinched and opened his mouth to say no, of course not, he would never think to defy his Master, but he didn't. Memories flared to life at the edges of Ezra's mind and a wave of dizziness swept over him, bringing with it voices.

" _We have to stand up for what's right, Ezra. We have to fight for those who can't."_

" _Your father and I are trying to help a lot of people, baby. We have to be a voice in the darkness."_

" _There's still good in this galaxy, Ezra. Never forget that."_

" _Your kindness is not weakness. Your compassion can change lives."_

Flashes of a life Ezra never knew he'd had were bubbling to the surface, overwhelming his senses as moments from his childhood, locked away until now, flooded his brain, bringing smells and sounds and sights and feelings in a never ending whirl of color. Ezra shut his eyes tightly, but the memories still came, and with them he could hear the distant shouting of his Master's voice.

Suddenly, the visions in his mind faded, and Ezra opened his eyes. He could hear his Master demanding the loth-cat's death, threatening pain if his orders were not followed, but Ezra could still see the faces of his parents and hear their voices telling him to be strong, be brave and good and kind, and Ezra had never felt so alive.

"No." His voice was soft but firm and he did not waver, not even when he met his Master's outraged gaze. "I won't."

Everything froze. Ezra could hear his ragged breathing and felt his heart pounding in his chest, and then pain exploded in his head.

Ezra screamed. He barely felt his body hit the floor. Sharp pain shot all through his body, fire scorching his brain from the inside out. Ezra's voice broke and he tasted blood, but he didn't care,  _couldn't_  care because his head was being squeezed and his mind was being torn apart and Ezra just wanted it to stop, he didn't care about the tears streaming down his face or the blood welling up from the scratches he gave himself as he raked his fingers down his own face, he wanted the pain  _gone_!

And just as suddenly as it had started, the pain stopped. Ezra lay where he had fallen, panting and shivering. He heard his Master approach and saw his feet stop in front of his face, and he tried to lift his head. A hand on Ezra's jaw forced his head up and he met his Master's gaze.

"You know the punishment for disobedience," his Master said. Ezra tried to speak, but it came out as a weak moan. Ezra felt himself be lifted by the Force and held, helpless, in the air. He struggled feebly for only a second before going limp, breathing heavily.

The loth-cat let out a pained wail and Ezra's head jerked up. He watched in horror as his Master lifted the animal up by its scruff and drove his lightsaber through its gut.

"No!" Ezra cried. Tears pricked his eyes and he watched as his Master dropped the loth-cat roughly to the floor. It twitched once before going still. His Master turned away from the body and strolled towards Ezra. He stopped just in front of him and Ezra stared back at his Master, terror rising in his chest.

Ezra's Master reached out one hand and made a sharp getsure. A loud  _snap_  echoed through the room, Ezra's howl of pain following closely. His Master released him and Ezra dropped to the floor, landing hard on his newly-broken arm. The pain brought with it blackness that Ezra could not push away.

"A Weapon never disobeys its Master," Ezra's Master said quietly. Ezra's world dissolved into darkness and he let himself be enveloped by nothingness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments, questions, reviews, and helpful criticism are highly appreciated.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, comments, questions, reviews, and helpful criticism are highly appreciated.


End file.
